United States or Tokelau ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"I did, Owen, I did." "Whin ye got word of her death last year, was ye a broken-hearted widdy or was ye not?" "I was, Owen, I was." 46 "John McGillis, do ye call yerself a widdy now, or do ye not call yerself a widdy?" "I do, Owen, I do." "Thin ye're the loire," and Owen slapped his face. For a minute there was danger of manslaughter as they dealt each other blows with sledge fists.
"Two wives, the bog-trotter!" gulped Owen. "John McGillis is a blayguard!" "Oui, what you call Irish," assented Léon; and he dodged, but the cobbler threw nothing at him. Owen marked with the awl on his own leather apron. "First a haythen and then a quarther-brade," he tallied against his countryman. "He will be takin' his quarther-brade to the praste before the boats go gut?"
The faithful sunset-tinted face of Blackbird, immovable as a fixed star, regarded the battered cobbler as it might have regarded a great manitou when the island was young. "How did you come by this, Owen?" "I come by it from one that had throuble. Has yerself iver seen it before, John McGillis?" "I have." "Is it a towken that ye're not a widdy?" "It is."
"No, no. Blackbird she wife of Jean Magliss in de winter camps." "John McGillis? Is it for marry in' on a haythen wife he is?" "O oui. Two wives. One good Cat'olique. Jean Magliss, he dance every night now with Amable Morin's girl. The more weddings, the more dancing. Me," Léon shrugged, "I no want a woman eating my wages in Mackinac. A squaw in the winter camps 't assez."
Crossed the lake twelve miles to the establishment of the North West Company, where we arrived about three o'clock; found all the gates locked, but upon knocking were admitted and received with marked attention and hospitality by Mr. Hugh McGillis. Had a good dish of coffee, biscuit, butter and cheese for supper. February 2. Remained all day within doors. In the evening sent an invitation to Mr.
Blackbird stood erect behind the elbow of John McGillis as he took leave of his cousin the cobbler. "Do ye moind, Owen," exclaimed John, turning from the interests of active life to that which had disturbed his spirit, convinced unalterably of his own widowed state, yet harrowed unspeakably, "ye promised to show me that word from the old counthry before the boats wint out."
Word Of The Day